


Time and Timepieces

by Deannie



Series: Many Happy Returns [3]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 12:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another birthday for one of the Seven. But this one is a little different--and so is Vin's present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time and Timepieces

Vin missed the next birthday entirely, but it wasn’t his fault. It was a couple of weeks after that he even got to find out there’d been a birthday.

Damn near almost hadn’t been one, either.

 

It was twilight by the time Vin and JD finished up feeding and brushing down the horses after the long ride from Jericho. Chris wasn’t as bad off as he could’ve been, but the ride hadn’t done him any good. Man had pretty much collapsed when they got into town and Nathan was worried maybe there was more wrong with him than he was saying. 

Vin just figured Chris had held out long enough, trying to make it home. He’d been nearly jumping out of his skin to leave that damn prison by the time they was done, but Vin knew that energy wasn’t meant to last. Now he was home, he didn’t need to keep going. Not when they were all looking out for him.

Finally.

The tracker reckoned they should have gone looking for him earlier, but Buck had said Chris had his reasons. Weren’t the anniversary of his family’s death—Vin knew that—but something had been bothering Chris for at least a few days before he took off. 

Vin guessed it wasn’t the time to ask about it now. The camp had been harder on Chris than the man would say. The warden… Hell, that warden’s death had been something. All snake-bit and swelled up—Vin had seen it before. He’d been after a man with a bounty on him, once. Seemed the fool got scared and didn’t bother watching where he was running. Snake got him good as he went to ground and by the time Vin tracked him down, there weren’t much could be done for him. 

Vin shivered a little in the November chill. There’d been a burlap sack beside the barred hole in the ground at Jericho, and relieved as Chris was to see them all, he was damn spooked by something. Might just have been that rattler. Vin tried not to think on how little room a rattler would’ve left for a man in that hole. 

Nathan came plodding down the stairs from the clinic, adjusting the sling that held his arm still so his gunshot wound could heal. He nodded to them both as JD and Vin reached the door of the livery. 

“Nathan, how’s Chris?” JD was as subdued as the kid ever got. Vin’d caught him looking around that camp with a horror in his eyes that reminded Vin of smoke and ruins and Comanche dead. That camp had been something, all right. Damn. 

“He’ll be okay,” Nathan assured them, looking as tired as Vin felt. “Needs some sleep—which he’s getting now—and some food.”

“I can get the food,” Vin offered. Nathan seemed to have forgotten the hole in his back. He’d been tended to real good by that prison doctor, but it was clear the wound was hurting him. “Looks like you could use some sleep and a drink. Maybe not in that order.” 

Nathan nodded seriously. “Much obliged, Vin. Chris don’t seem to want much in the way of noise or company.” Vin could understand that. Chris had been downright smothered by the rest of them in the two days it’d taken them to help straighten out the rightful prisoners from the innocent. He probably didn’t want to see another living soul for a while. Might not be the best idea after what he’d been through, but Chris had a right to make his own decisions. Had too many of them made for him for a while there. 

The healer stifled a yawn. “Figure maybe I’ll go over to the boarding house and get some sleep.” 

Vin nodded. “You go ahead. I’ll get a tray from the restaurant and leave it for him for when he wakes up.” He yawned hugely himself and shared a smile with both his friends. “Then I guess maybe I better turn in myself.”

 

 

He kept awake mainly through force of will while he waited for the stew to be packed up. Could have used some himself, but his thoughts kept returning to that rattler and he found he just wasn’t that hungry after all. 

As he walked back up the street toward the livery, he was surprised to see Ezra walking lightly down the last few stairs from the clinic. Ezra was surprised to see him, too—froze up solid there for a second before thawing out and pretending nothing happened. 

“Mr. Tanner,” he greeted him warmly. Man needed to stop doing that. He weren’t Mr. Tanner. Seemed just plain wrong sometimes, after a year of friendship. Ezra's eyes darted around, watching everything, like he was afraid he’d be caught out by somebody else. “I had thought you would be getting a well earned rest.” 

“Figured Chris’d want something to eat when he woke,” Vin explained, lifting the tray a little in explanation. “’Less he’s already up?” 

“No,” Ezra said, his hands no more still than his darting eyes, fingers twitching nervously. “Sleeping away, as he heartily deserves.” Ezra had been spooked by the camp, too, and he and Josiah had been the ones to help the doctor tend to Nathan, which couldn’t have helped. Plus, they’d all been spooked by how bad Chris had looked when they got to him. Sure, he’d cleaned up good, but that first night… Damn. 

“You just up to check on him?” Vin asked leadingly, when Ezra stayed silent. The gambler seemed shocked out of thoughts by the question. 

He shook his head. “Looking for Mr. Jackson, actually,” he replied, smooth as oil, like always. 

“Seems to be doing fine. Went over to the boarding house to get some shut-eye.” Vin hid a grin as Ezra nodded absently. Gambler hadn’t been looking for Nathan at all. “Said Chris was wanting to be alone.” 

“Not his finest idea, surely,” Ezra murmured, so low Vin barely heard it. 

Again, Vin was inclined to agree, but it weren’t his place to impose himself on Chris if he weren’t wanted. 

Ezra shook himself like a dog and plastered on his show smile: all teeth, no heart. “Well, Mr. Tanner, I expect I shall have to wait for Mr. Jackson to awaken. Perhaps I shall find my own bed in the meantime.” He tipped his hat. “Good evening.” 

Vin shook his head as the gambler walked away slowly, betraying more exhaustion than Vin was sure he meant to. “Evening, Ezra,” he muttered, heading up the stairs. 

 _Wonder what he was here for?_ Vin figured Ezra worried about any of them when they were sick or hurt, just like they all did, but he wasn’t much for sitting with a friend when he was abed. Buck and Vin himself were exceptions, but hell, Buck damn near held court, as Chris would say, when he was laid up. Had half the town waltzing in and out of Nathan’s place. 

Vin never could figure why Ezra seemed willing to visit when _he_ was laid up, but it was almost always a welcome distraction, so he didn’t give it much thought. 

But the gambler and Chris were like oil and water. They were civil—even friendly—most of the time, but catch either of them in a bad mood, and it was like them Chinese fireworks, every time. 

He was still pondering when he opened the door to the clinic and tried to sneak in. All attempts at that were ruined when Chris let out an all mighty yell and leaped from the bed, startling Vin badly enough to send the tray of coffee, stew, and biscuits to the floorboards. 

“NO!” Chris backed up, fetching up against the corner of the room with a thump that had Vin wincing for the man’s bruises. “Don’t!” He jerked back again, harder this time, and quick, like he’d been struck at by that damn rattler. 

“Chris…” Vin walked forward carefully, trying not to spook him. Oh yeah. This was bad. 

“Come on, now, Chris, you’re home,” he murmured softly, close enough to touch, but hopefully out of the line of fire if Chris struck out. The gunslinger’s eyes were open now, and starting to try to see past whatever the nightmare was. 

“Vin?” The word came slowly, and with great confusion. 

Vin tried to smile. “Yeah, cowboy, it’s me.” He risked reaching out, pulling right back and raising his hands when Chris instinctively smacked at the fingers on his shoulder. Chris ran a hand through his hair and sighed, sliding down the wall. 

“Sorry.” 

Vin shrugged. “S’alright. Shouldn’t’ve startled you.” 

“Damn.” 

“Yep. ’Bout covers it.” Vin knelt down, making sure he wasn’t too close. “You want to get up off the floor?” 

Apparently, that was a tougher question than he thought it’d be. Took Chris a long minute to answer. He didn’t say nothing, though, just tried to push himself up, groaning as his legs refused to do the heavy lifting. Vin had seen the threshing marks all up and down the backs of them, that first night when he’d helped clean Chris up. 

After sewing Nathan up, that poor old surgeon, who’d been wrongly imprisoned for just about forever in that damn place, saw to Chris’s wounds. Nothing life-threatening, he’d said, and nothing permanent, though Chris seemed to have a hell of a time walking with his legs so banged up. No, not serious, just damn painful and likely slow to heal. 

“Can I help you, or are you going to smack me again?” he asked, making sure the teasing tone was strong enough to get through Chris’s shock. 

Chris glared at him, but with the spark of humor in his eyes that told Vin that, maybe, things’d be okay after all. Chris held his elbow out stiffly and let Vin do most of the work to lever him up. 

“Come on, old man,” Vin muttered, helping him over to the bed and getting him settled. He ignored the slight stiffening of his friend’s muscles as he helped him. It figured the man’d be touchy after the treatment he’d been given. 

“Want some water?” he asked, looking to the bedside table and picking up the glass there. Chris watched him sniff it suspiciously. 

“Think it’s safe?” he asked, painfully arranging himself on the bed. “You know Nathan—always slipping something in there.” 

Vin shrugged and held it out. “Smells safe enough, I reckon. Ain’t like you aren’t planning on going back to sleep anyway, right?”

Except that he could see Chris wasn’t planning anything of the sort. And again, it figured. His dreams couldn’t be much to hope for, right about now. Probably end up jammed against the wall again, and nobody there to pick him up. 

Chris drank the whole glass down and reached out to set it on the table, pausing when he saw the small box that Vin had seen but ignored as not important right at the moment. “What is that?” 

Vin picked it up. It was a small black box with a white card on top. He couldn’t read the words, but he could tell by the swoops and swirls what Ezra had been doing up here earlier. _Damn, Chris. You could’ve told us._  

“Well?” Chris wanted to know. 

Vin ducked his head so Chris wouldn’t see him blush for not being able to read it out to him and handed over the package. “I figure since it’s for you, you can read it yourself.”

Chris looked at him curiously, but was quickly taken in by the box. “To many happier returns, E. P. Standish,” he read quietly. 

Chris just sat like a lump, looking at the box and the card and finally Vin couldn’t stand it anymore. “If you ain’t gonna open it, I am,” he said sharply. 

His friend glared at him and opened the box. And then stared stupidly at the inside of the thing. 

“For goodness sake—“ Vin was about to pull the thing away from him when Chris reached in and gently removed a sturdy, handsome pocket watch. He snorted disbelievingly.

“When’d he have time?” Chris wondered. Vin figured he knew, but stayed silent. They’d rifled through the store in Jericho, returning what they could to the prisoners who’d been robbed of both time and property, but the one thing of Chris’s they hadn’t found had been his pocket watch. Must’ve been sold before they got there to bring him home. Chris had passed it off as unimportant, but Vin could see it was just one more black mark on an already black chapter. 

A chapter that apparently included his birthday. 

“Red River,” Chris mused, still puzzling on when the gambler would have had the time to go shopping for the damn thing. Vin was sure that was when it was, because Ezra had made some comment about having to get decent provisions himself because he didn’t want to starve on the ride home. Made sure nobody’d be with him so nobody’d see. 

Vin wished he’d thought of that. 

It was a right nice watch, too. Not like the one he’d had, but just Chris’s type—strong, not flashy like something Ezra might’ve bought for himself at all.

“He must have bought it when he was getting provisions," Chris whispered. 

Vin was a little startled to see the shine of tears in Chris’s eyes. They didn’t fall, though, and Vin figured his friend was entitled to some emotion at such kindness after so much hurt. 

Didn’t mean Vin had to let him dwell there, though. 

“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday,” he said quietly. “Thought you said a man should celebrate that with his friends.” 

Chris was silent, studying the timepiece. “Sarah and Adam had this whole ritual they’d do for birthdays,” he finally admitted. “Adam loved it, so I loved it, too. That first year after... I holed up and waited until it passed. Same thing the year after that.” He sighed, absently swinging the watch on its fob. “Guess I got out of practice.” 

“That’s why you took off, huh? After Buck and Josiah, you didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want anyone to make a scene?” 

Chris held up the watch to him, as if to say _this is what would have happened._  

“He didn’t even wake you up,” Vin countered. “Guessing he knew you wouldn’t want his usual commotion. Probably knew even before Jericho.” 

Chris nodded. “Damn gambler,” he grumbled. “Never am gonna figure him out.” 

“Figure he plans it that way,” Vin said with a smile. 

Chris matched it, and Vin could see a measure of peace come over the man. He suddenly looked beyond Vin to the stew splashed across the floor. 

“Was that for me?” 

“Was,” Vin agreed. “’Afore you went and scared the hell out of me with your screaming.” 

Chris shook his head. “Better get me some more, then.” 

Vin studied the mess. “Reckon I should—to keep Nathan off my back, at least.” He turned back to the bed. “Can call it your birthday present, seeing as how you never gave me a chance to get you one.” 

They grinned at each other as Vin picked up the tray and did his best to clean up the mess. Vin straightened and turned to his friend again. 

“Was figuring maybe I’d get myself a bowl, too. Might as well eat up here and take all them dishes back to the restaurant so Nathan don’t complain about the mess.” 

Chris gave him a contented smile and laid back in the bed. “Probably be the best course of action.” He paused a moment, before he said, “Thank you, Vin.” 

Vin ducked his head again, but brought it right back up again. “So, how old are you now, cowboy?” 

“Get out, Vin,” Chris growled, and Vin did. But he stopped at the top of the stairs and looked back in the windows to find Chris studying the pocket watch with a small smile on his face. 

Yeah, being alone wasn’t doing the man any favors. Vin decided not all birthday presents came in smart black boxes with crisp white cards. Some were just being there with your friend, even when he didn’t figure he wanted you. 

But if he was going to do that, Vin was damn sure going to get some coffee first. 

****

The End

 


End file.
